


Remastered

by silentglassbreak



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Abuse, Harsh Language, M/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-10-06 13:37:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20507897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentglassbreak/pseuds/silentglassbreak
Summary: Billy Hargrove was expecting an easy summer. He was expecting to work as a lifeguard, to save up some money to get out of this shithole town, to get away with his new secret romance. But Billy Hargrove had a very different experience. And it really wasn’t his fault.Steve Harrington pictured his life so differently. He pictured graduating, marrying Nancy Wheeler, and shipping off to college. That is, until Billy Hargrove showed up. Until Billy Hargrove showed him something new. Until Billy Hargrove took it all away. Or, who he thought was Billy Hargrove.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is the first fic I’ve written in many years, so please bear with me while I ease back in. However, something about the Harringrove ship speaks to my soul. 
> 
> Major S3 spoilers, as this is just S3 rewritten as a Harringrove plot line. If you haven’t watched the third season, please turn back now!

Steve stood, feet about shoulder width apart, his dark green gown hanging just below his knees. The damn cap he was wearing was damaging his best asset. It frustrated him. Between the long line of chattering almost-adult guys and the heat of the warm late-May sun beating on him, he was silently wishing this would just be over.  
He had been looking forward to this day for so long. He pictured himself shaking the principal’s and mayor’s hands, his toothy smile beaming out at the audience while his mom took pictures and his dad clapped proudly, maybe even a tear rolling down his cheek; his fellow classmates cheering that the King had gone out just that way. He pictured going home and packing, preparing for the short summer before he would head off to BYU, or NYU, or even Indiana State. He pictured himself kissing Nancy just after the ceremony, leaning her backwards while Tommy whooped and hollered. He pictured this differently.  
He hadn’t pictured himself sweating through his dark blue dress shirt, his parents in Miami to meet clientele, no eyes on him as he fidgeted with his damn tassel that wouldn’t stop hitting him right behind his left ear. He hadn’t pictured Nancy in the other line, staring at Jonathan Byers…  
“Would you stop pulling on that damn tassel, Harrington?” His eyes shot up to the voice that was now scolding him. He was met with impossibly blue eyes, narrowed and annoyed, staring through him. He rolled his own out of instinct.  
“Fuck off, Billy.” He went back to slapping at the strings. He could hear Billy Hargrove sighing loudly before his peripheral caught an arm coming up and snatching the cap off of his head. The air brushing across his hair caused almost instant relief to the heat, but his irritation toward the blonde haired asshole in front of him replaced his newfound ease. “Hey!”  
His hand instantly reached up to grab it out of Billy’s rough, dry hands. He stood for a moment, staring at his hands, that were only very slightly bruised at the knuckles, which is an improvement from how they were usually split and scabbed. He remembered when, only six months prior, those hands had been covered in his own blood, and split from connecting with his own teeth. He watched as they flipped his cap over, tied a small knot on the other side of the tassel, and immediately replaced it on his head.  
“There ya go, princess.” He sneered, and his grin was wicked. Steve glared, adjusting the cap. He did take notice that his tassel hung higher, no longer brushing over his sweaty skin. Without another word, Billy turned back around and pulled a cigarette from his jeans, lighting it. “Is this bullshit ever going to start?!” He heard his voice yell over the dozens of conversations in the line. No one answered.  
Steve could not help but notice how out of place Billy Hargrove seemed in this environment. How unbelievably surreal it seemed to see him in his graduation cap and faux-silk gown, with no doubt either a Henley or plane t-shirt underneath. His black boots flattened the grass beneath them, new to such a civil environment.  
His thoughts were cut short when pomp and circumstance began to play. Steve straightened his spine and smoothed the hair on the back of his neck, wiping away the excess sweat. The line began moving forward, his feet shuffling along with the rest of his classmates. He took notice of the cigarette dropped on the grass in front of him, and made a point to stomp on it before following right behind Billy.

The courtyard was slowly emptying, family and friends of his fellow graduates taking their leave. Steve had made his rounds through the families that he had grown up with, thanked Dustin and his mother for coming to support him, hugged the Wheelers; maybe Nancy for a few seconds longer than necessary. He had even shook Jonathan’s hand, smiled widely, and ruffled Will’s growing hair, making a comment about how he would be as tall as him within a year, saw the glimmer of hope in his eyes.  
The only family he had avoided was Billy’s. It had crossed his mind, to say hello to Max, maybe even say a quick thank you to Billy for helping with his tassel, but decided against it. The most conversation they had since his near-death experience from Billy’s fists was today, and random shouts on the basketball court. Steve will admit that he had actively avoided Hargrove, not wanting to cause problems for Max, not wanting to cause problems for himself. He couldn’t say he was scared, because fear was a whole different animal to the chosen group who knew the truth in Hawkins, but he was leery, because those bruises took for-fucking-ever to heal.  
He was once again pulled from his thoughts when he heard footsteps approach. He glanced up, squinting in the shade of the planter he sat on, slowly dissipating from the sun. Through his narrowed lids, he could see bright red hair, freckles, and a big smile.  
“Congratulations Steve!” And smaller, pale arms were thrown around him, almost a little desperately. He chuckled, catching the weight in his arms.  
“Thanks Max.” He pulled back from the embrace and looked immediately to her left, where he noticed there was a new shade over his face. Billy stood, arms crossed, cigarette in his right hand, smile only pulled up on one side of his mouth.  
“We did it, Harrington.” He looked over at the dissolving crowd, with an almost thoughtful look on his face. His gown had been discarded somewhere, so Steve now knew he was actually wearing a plain red t-shirt. Max’s eyes were looking sideways at Billy, an almost threatening glare. “Time for the real world.”  
Steve snorted a little, eyes going down to his feet. That was the scary part. “Yeah, I guess so.”  
“You headed to Tommy’s party? I hear it’s going to be a hell of a kegger. He invited the entire graduating class.” His eyes were on Steve, he could feel it. He lifted his gaze to raise an eyebrow at Billy. “Losers and all.” Max sneered and turned on her heel, stomping toward her mother and step-father, who was glaring in Billy’s direction.  
Steve almost lost his thoughts for a moment, sucked into a quick memory of Max barging into Dustin’s room where he sat with Lucas and himself, definitely was not reading comics with them. He remembers the tears that stained her face. Lucas had wrapped his arms around her, asked her what was wrong. She told a grisly story of Billy getting home late, his dad throwing him on the ground, twisting his arm behind his back, kicking him over and over until Billy had squirmed enough that there was a sickening, snapping sound, and the scariest echo of Billy screaming throughout the walls of her home. Told them about how Neil Hargrove didn’t know she was watching from the hallway, how Billy had told her to go into her room between his screaming sobs, how she had snuck out her window.  
He remembered her words, ‘He wasn’t trying to upset Neil. He had to stay late at school, practice had just run long so I skated home.’ and, ‘I really hate Billy sometimes, but not enough to want that to happen.’ Steve remembered feeling so guilty, he almost threw up, because practice ran long because of him. Because he kept missing his lay-ups, because he was distracted from seeing Nancy and Jonathan kissing by the bleachers before practice. Because coach wouldn’t let anyone leave until he had finished. Because he wouldn’t accept Billy’s offers to show him. Because he was angry, and selfish, Billy had a broken arm for six weeks just before Thanksgiving. Billy had to miss two days of school. He had lied and said he had gotten into a bar fight, but Steve learned the truth. He had worn sunglasses for a week, despite threats of detention from teachers, to hide the black eyes from the blows. Had made it a point to lay low until his ribs healed. Steve knew the truth.  
When he realized he had yet to respond to Billy’s question, he snapped back to the present and shook his head. “Nah, I’m pretty sure I’m the only one not invited.” He said with a self-loathing chuckle. Billy sat down next to him, which startled Steve for a moment.  
“Oh, you’re invited.” Billy pulled to light a new cigarette, then passed it to Steve. He probably shouldn’t have, but he took it between his fingers and took a long drag.  
“You sound sure about that.” He eyed Billy, exhaling smoke above his head. “How do you know?” He heard a small laugh come from Billy.  
“Because I’m inviting you.” He stood up then, taking the cigarette with him, and just walked away. Steve sat, mouth slightly open, looking after his classmate, wondering when they became on ‘I’m inviting you’ terms?

Harrington pulled the front door open, the smell of cigarette and Marijuana smoke immediately filling his nose. He almost immediately regretted coming, wondering if anyone saw him so he could slip out unnoticed before he heard that familiar, gruff voice.  
“Princess!” It sounded far too excited, and the hair on his neck stood on end. He closed his eyes and sighed loudly before he felt a hand clap his shoulder. “Glad you made it!”  
His eyes looked over Billy once. Red silk dress shirt unbuttoned, bare chest exposed. His stomach knotted in the way it did when he felt like vomiting. He finally spit out, “You invited me.” venom lacing his words. A warning. He was in no mood.  
Billy’s arm slung lazily around his shoulders. He began pulling him through the living room, he knew it very well. Tommy’s house was his second home, once. He was being guided to the kitchen when he caught a glimpse of Nancy Wheeler, leaning against the dining room table, Jonathan’s left arm gripping around her waist, smiling vividly while she held some conversation with Tammy Thompson. His body stopped like stone, his insides burning. Although Hopper was pretty lenient on Steve, always had been, he didn’t think he would get away with throwing one good sucker punch at Jonathan, just one. He didn’t want to ruin any kind of civility he had with him, just wanted that one good one he deserved after all that happened.  
Billy stopped next to him, his gaze following Steve’s. He sucked his teeth for a split second before tugging his shoulders. “C’mon Harrington. Nothing worth looking at over there.” He felt the burning slowly subside. Unfortunately, Billy was right this time.  
He let himself be pulled into the kitchen, left at the counter. Billy’s tongue licked his bottom lip while his hand pointed at Steve. “You need a beer, my friend.” And he turned around to pull two glass bottles from the metal bucket filled with ice. Steve snorted and gratefully snatched the bottle out of Hargrove’s hand.  
“Since when are we friends?” Billy smiled, something genuine behind it, and took a long pull from his brew.  
“Since now!” He slammed the bottle on the counter, giving Steve a new smile, an impossible smile, eyes lit up and blue, lacking that usual sarcasm. “Might as well! We’re adults now, Harrington. We need friends.” And Steve was so distracted, staring Billy in the eyes, wondering why the burning was back in his chest, he didn’t even notice when Billy began to walk away.  
“I’ll catch you in a bit,” Steve focused and looked after Billy, seeing the chain hanging around his chest, seeing his chest, burning growing. “try to have fun, would ya?” And Billy was gone. Steve was frozen, wondering what the fuck had him feeling like he was on fire.

Three hours in, nine beers down, almost 1AM, and Steve was pretty fuzzy around the edges. Maybe more than pretty fuzzy, and he chuckled to himself while his body sort of swayed back and forth, enjoying the cool evening air by the pool. There was a group of people his age sitting in a circle around the lawn table where he sat. He didn’t hear the conversations, didn’t care to know what they were saying. He only knew that he needed to figure out how the fuck he was going to get home. He kept repeating the words ‘pretty fuzzy’ in his head, feeling his chest shake with silent laughter. He was wasted.  
Being wasted was actually nice. He found himself thinking about Nancy anytime he saw her walk by, or dance with Jonathan (which made him laugh harder, because he is a truly awful dancer), and he was able to let that sinking feeling sort of fall out of his head. Ooze out of his ears. The beer was helping, and he enjoyed it. He also enjoyed anytime he caught a glimpse of Billy, but that didn’t make him laugh.  
Billy would stand across the pool, talking to Tommy and Carol, smiling his wicked grin, saying something that must have been funny. Billy would talk to a group of three girls at a time, making them run their eyes up and down his body, or fawn after his ass as he walked away. Billy would stop by and bring Steve a beer from time to time, providing no words. But, one thing that made Steve’s breath catch in his throat, was that every time, Billy would glance at him. Sometimes it was a fraction of a second, sometimes it was almost an entire minute. His eyes would go a little softer than normal, catch Steve’s, and make that burning feeling grow, sink into his stomach, down into his-  
And then Steve did laugh. He laughed so loud that everyone at the table stopped and stared at him like he had completely lost his mind. He thought to himself that he had. They all nervously giggled with him, Henry Anderson finally putting a hand on his shoulder and asking, “You alright, man?”  
Steve was in hysterics, his uncontrollable laughter becoming contagious until everyone was cracking up. He threw his head back in the chair, neck cracking quietly, eyes expecting to see stars, but they were met with blonde curls, wet now from having jumped in the pool, and a silver chain with a dog tag hanging. His smile opened lazily, and he silently wondered if he was close enough to catch the water droplets falling off of Billy’s chest with his tongue. He didn’t understand that thought, though.  
Billy’s voice was lighthearted. “What’re we laughing at?” Tammy, who was sitting to Steve’s left, answered with swoon in her voice. Steve’s eyes rolled obviously.  
“We don’t even know. Steve just started laughing, so we all did.” Her voice broke at the end, starting to laugh again. Steve threw his head back again, realizing Billy’s hand was wrapped around the beam of the chair, so his head hit his fingers. He started laughing again, he couldn’t stop it. Billy eyed him, eyebrow raised.  
“Having fun, Harrington?” Steve wiped tears from his eyes and set his bottle on the glass table.  
“Ah,” He grabbed the arms of the chair and stood on wobbly legs, trying to steady himself. “I need to get home.” His entire body became very heavy, threatening to plummet to the concrete below him, before he felt an arm around his waist and breath on his neck. Then it was Billy who was laughing. He could feel the rumble in his entire body, because it was fucking pressed against Steve’s. It was warm and damp, and Steve felt himself get hotter in the face.  
“You’re not driving, Steve.” His ears perked up then. Had he ever called him by his first name before? Had he ever called him anything other than Harrington or princess? “You’re too drunk.” Steve turned and placed an open palm against Billy’s chest and pushed him away, almost toppling in the process. Billy’s hands came up in front of him, palms open.  
“You’re too drunk.” Steve slipped out, words slurred, but trying his hardest to be serious. Billy rolled his eyes and turned his head to the rest of the group.  
“I’ll be back guys. I’ve got to take the princess home.” They all laughed and waived while Billy drug Steve into the house by his wrist. Stopping only to grab his keys from the bowl on the kitchen island, he pulled them out front toward the Camaro. Steve looked fondly over at his BMW and, whinier than he intended, said “My car!” Billy laughed, unlocking his door for him.  
“You can get it tomorrow. Get in.” Steve obeyed, because he was so much like gelatin at that moment, that he was able to be manhandled by Billy, and wasn’t in the mood.  
Steve slumped against the door, face pressed against the window, eyes closed and fading. “Don’t you fucking puke in my car, Harrington.” There was an edge to his words that made him want to, just to piss him off. Steve didn’t open his eyes to respond.  
“M’not gonna puke.” He cracked one eye open enough and looked out the windshield. “D’you know where I live?” Billy exhaled smoke from his freshly lit cigarette.  
“Yep.” Steve turned to fully look at him now, feigned disgust on his face.  
“Stalker.” Billy handed Steve the cigarette, who accepted it graciously.  
“Max pointed it out to me once. It’s a small town. Easy to remember.” Steve snorted and handed the cigarette back to Billy, shivering when Billy’s fingers brushed over his. Billy’s tongue was running between his lips between drags when he glanced at Steve, who was starting to doze again. “Saw you staring a lot tonight, princess.” Steve couldn’t hold back the nervous chuckle that escaped him. Hoped it wasn’t too obvious. Hoped his head was clearing because the alcohol was wearing off, not because the burning was back hotter than before. The air was thick for a beat before he responded.  
“Please,” He almost stumbled over his words. “you were staring.” Billy grinned.  
“Yeah, that’s how I saw.” Steve’s face fell for a second. His mouth crumpled into something similar to a grimace.  
“You gay, or something, Hargrove?” He took another drag from the cigarette, straightening in his seat. Billy hung an arm out his window, staring out the windshield with a nonchalant look.  
“Nah,” he glanced at Steve for far too long. They were definitely going to crash. “Just like looking at you, that’s all.” Steve felt uncomfortably warm in the car, wiggling in his seat.  
The tires stopped in front of his empty house, and he silently patted his pocket, ensuring he had his house key. He slowly turned his head in Billy’s direction, not looking at him. Billy was leaned back, head dropped lazily in his direction.  
“Uh,” His tongue felt dry. “Thanks for the ride, Billy.” He just nodded and did a two finger salute to Steve before Harrington opened the door. He stepped out, trying to balance, but his head seemed to have lifted away from him, because he had to catch himself on the door.  
“You alright, Harrington?” Steve tried to speak, but was busy trying to gather his brain enough to stand. He heard the car door on the other side closing. Billy’s hands grabbed his under arms, “Alright, let’s go.” Steve was being pulled to his front steps, moving with Billy as support, because his legs just would not fucking work.  
After he finally managed to get the door unlocked, get into the living room, move toward the stairs, he made a quick decision to head to the kitchen, catching Billy off guard and almost toppling them both over.  
“Whoa, what’re you doin?” Steve pointed toward the kitchen, trying to form words over all the burning.  
“Water.” Billy nodded in realization and huddled them into the kitchen. In a swift movement, he had Steve lifted onto the counter, releasing a small ‘oopf’-ing sound from him. He watched through still slightly hazy eyes as Billy reached into the clear cabinet, grabbing a glass, and ran it under the sink tap, handing it to Steve. Without another thought, Steve began downing the water, gulping loudly and letting some slide down the sides of his mouth. When the glass was empty, he set it down with a loud ‘clink’ on the tile counter and looked up at Billy, who was leaning against the opposite counter, staring at him. Steve’s face flushed red, a smile playing on his lips.  
“You really do like to stare at me, don’t you?” Billy’s grin was wicked, dark, and something else Steve couldn’t place. He raised an eyebrow at Steve and slid his hands in his pockets.  
“Not as much as you like staring at me.” Steve rolled his eyes and laughed a little quieter than he intended. It didn’t sound nearly as insulting as he would’ve hoped.  
“You sure do think a lot of yourself.” He leaned back on his hands, a long moment before Billy spoke again. His face was now full of something, something dubious or interested.  
“And, what do you think of me,” He pushed off the counter and took a step toward him. “Steve?” The air in the room was still, Steve’s breathing completely halted. He felt his skin begin to rise with goosebumps, his stomach burning so hot, pushing down into his jeans. He didn’t understand it, he didn’t know why he was so tempted to lean forward, but it was almost involuntary, the way he straightened his spine, his hands coming to rest on his own thighs. Billy was much closer here, so much closer. His breath hot in Steve’s collarbone, his eyes piercing into Steve’s own.  
“I think,” His voice was low and almost raspy, “that I have not a fucking clue as to what’s happening right now.” Billy’s grin was back, a little less evil. He took a half-step closer, tilting his head up and slightly to the side, completely in Steve’s space, and he exhaled low and slow.  
“That’s good, ‘cause we can’t tell anyone, anyway.” Steve’s one eyebrow perked up, heat building in his chest.  
“Can’t tell anyone wha-“ But before he could finish, Billy’s lips were pressed to his, hot and wet. Steve’s eyes blew out wide, staring down at Billy, knowing he should pull away, punch him in the face, order him to leave, but he didn’t.  
The heat finally taking over, Steve absolutely melted, eyes rolling back and closing, hand reaching into Billy’s hair, fighting to be closer. The kiss was desperate, all tongue and loud. Steve’s mouth fell open when Billy began dragging hot open kisses down his jaw line and neck.  
His breathing sporadic, he managed to croak out, “Billy,” his other hand was digging into Hargrove’s shoulder. “I-I don’t,” and he cannot finish his thought, because Billy’s hands are undoing his belt.  
Swift fingers pulling open his jeans, freeing him from the confinement where the pressure was just enough to keep him from losing it. He sucked in a harsh breath when Billy’s hand was around him suddenly, before their mouths connected again. He pressed his forehead against Steve’s and pulled away from his lips long enough to ask, “Are you saying no?” His voice was hoarse, and almost sad. Steve shook his head.  
“Fuck no.” And Billy pounced, ducked his head low so he’s practically crouching between Steve’s open legs, running his tongue along the bottom side of Steve’s cock. Steve gasped for air again, finding the sight of Billy’s blue eyes looking up at him just so god damn beautiful.  
“Fuck, Billy.” And he got another evil smile in response, before Billy’s got all of him in his mouth, bobbing his head up and down. His mouth, slick and hot, pushing Steve over the edge. “Dear God,” His hands are in the blonde curls, pulling, wanting, praying he won’t stop. “Billy, please.”  
Billy’s mouth was gone for only a second to say, “That's right sweetheart, beg me.” And Steve’s head fell back, almost choking on the pleasure.  
“Please, Billy.” His mouth moving faster. “Please make me come.” He’s speaking between panting, “Fucking please.” And the head of his dick hit the back of Billy’s throat, causing a short choking sound from him, and he felt the release suddenly. Emptying into Billy’s mouth, Steve crumbles on the counter, laying flat on his back, savored the feeling of Billy sucking him dry. Just as he felt he couldn’t handle more, a hand gripped his shirt, the absence of Billy’s mouth on him, and he’s pulled up to hard, wet lips. He licked into Billy’s mouth, tasting himself, ravishing the feeling. Billy pulls back, almost as breathless as Steve. “You got a bedroom in this palace, right?”

An hour passed, and Steve was laying in his bed, naked, staring at Billy, who was inhaling cigarette smoke, exhaling through his nostrils. Steve was drowning in thoughts of comparing Billy’s personality to that of a bull, when he noticed the blonde turn his head toward him. His voice was back to its usual gruff with an edge of sarcasm.  
“I meant what I said,” His words were full of some kind of irritation. “no one can find out about this.” He reached over and pressed his cigarette out on Steve’s hardwood nightstand. After the fourth one, Steve had quit flinching.  
It took a moment for Steve to process that Billy’s words weren’t a statement, but a warning. He wanted Billy to go soft again, wanted to hold onto the thin air that was between them for just a little longer. It had been so long since Steve had felt like someone’s presence wasn’t either annoying, or uncomfortable. He needed it to last just a little longer.  
His head nodded slowly, and he spoke matter-of-factly. “Understood.” Billy seemed satisfied with that, rolling onto his side toward Steve, an arm coming up under his pillow and his eyes closed. Steve didn’t move.  
“I can feel you staring, Harrington.” Steve chuckled for a moment, a smirk lifting a side of Billy’s mouth. “Get some sleep. I’ve got to pick Max up from her friend’s house in the morning.”  
Steve flopped onto his back with a thudding sound, a long sigh escaping him. He chewed his lip before he looked back over at Billy. “You want to hang tomorrow?” One of Hargrove’s eyes cracked open, a tired smile fully flooding his face.  
“Couldn’t get enough, could ya princess?” Steve was laughing quietly.  
“I just meant, like go see a movie or something, as friends.” He thought for a beat. “We are friends now, aren’t we?” Billy closed his eyes again and shrugged, pulling the covers over his chest.  
“Yeah, a movie would be cool.” He snorted. “Since we’re friends now.” He rolled onto his back and lifted an arm. Steve instinctively scooted over, laying his head on Billy’s shoulder, hand coming to rest over his chest and gripping his hip under the blanket. Steve could feel himself drifting, and that was okay.  
He doubted the ‘friends that are fucking’ thing was a little more than either of them were comfortable admitting yet, but that was okay too. His mind almost turned off when he heard Billy’s voice.  
“I hear that Starcourt Mall is pretty cool.”


	2. Chapter One: The End of Billy Hargrove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve And Billy hash out a the main issue.  
But it’s not just the end of them.

Steve opened his eyes, the sunlight from outside his bedroom window piercing his line of sight. His hand instinctively came up to block the uncomfortable, blinding glare. He felt a hand in his hair and breathed out a sigh. His hand came back down to rest on warm, golden skin, freshly tanned in natural sunlight. 

His eyes peered up to where Billy was leaned against his headboard, cigarette between his lips. “Morning, sweetheart.” Steve tried to adjust, but the hand brushing through his hair had him feeling lazy, like he wanted to go back to sleep. His head dropped back onto Billy’s chest, breathing on his stomach. “How’d you sleep?”

Steve didn’t feel like answering. He was too tired. He knew he had to, though. Billy knew he was awake. “Like the dead.” His right index finger traced circles on Billy’s chest. “You?” He felt Hargrove reach over and put his cigarette out in the ashtray they finally put on his nightstand.

“Same.” Steve knew he was lying. Vaguely remembered hearing Billy talking, telling someone to stop hitting him, remembered wrapping a protective arm around him before they both fell back asleep. Maybe Billy didn’t remember, but Steve sure did. He remembered every nightmare, but they were never talked about.

His eyes were half lidded, staring at his closed bedroom door, completely relaxed. That is, before he felt the hand in his hair grasp, and begin pushing his head down, exciting a laugh from Steve’s lips.

“C’mon man, I just woke up.” He swatted up lazily at Billy, a feeble attempt to get out of his grip. Billy laughed as well, pushing harder. His voice was almost whiny.

“Awe, baby,” He slid his body up so Steve was inches from the waist of his sweats. “I’ve got morning wood!” Steve laughed loudly, lifting his body quickly and hooking his legs over Billy’s lap, taking advantage of his position, now on his back. Billy had Steve’s wrists pinned by his blonde head, licking his lips playfully. His hips rolled into Steve’s, causing a slow moan from his lips. Steve was slicker, though, reaching down and pressing a soft, lingering kiss on Billy’s mouth, causing his grip to loosen on Steve’s wrists. His hands quickly repositioned so that Billy’s arms were pinned to his own chest. 

Steve smiled down at his, friend? Friend with benefits? Definitely not his boyfriend. That part was still so unclear. Their ultimate secret had been kept for three weeks solid, locked down tight, never to get out. There was no talk of, ‘where is this going?’ or ‘what exactly are we?’. Sure, the question had crossed his mind more than once, but he didn’t want to push it. Billy had become the best friend he ever had, and he wasn’t ready to let that go. 

It was no secret that they had become close, but most people assumed it was for the party of children they seemed to be constantly babysitting. Instead of dropping Max off at the arcade, Billy stayed sometimes, sat outside with Steve eating cheese fries or splitting a pizza, talking about their jobs. Billy was usually gloating; talking about how easy his was. All he had to do was ‘get a nice tan and make sure none of those little shits drown’. Steve, on the other hand, had a tendency to complain about his job to a degree that usually had Billy more annoyed than his norm. 

Saying things like, ‘Why don’t you just quit?’ and, ‘It’s not that bad of a gig.’ and, ‘The sailor uniform gets me hard.’ He only said that last one in private, though.

Wait, job? Uniform? Steve’s job? 

Steve’s head snapped up away from Billy with a cracking sound. His eyes wide, searching for his alarm clock. “What time is it?!” Billy's head turned toward the clock that now read 9:32AM. “Shit!” His body jumped off of Billy’s, scrambling for the closet. “I’m going to be fucking late!” 

Billy’s head fell back on the bed while he pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand, adjusted his sweats with the other to calm his erection. “Explain to me why you have to go in two hours early again?” He sat his body up and reached to the nightstand for another cigarette.

Steve groaned loudly, tossing clothes around in his hamper, attempting to locate a shirt to wear under his uniform. “Because Robin thinks I need to be trained  _ again _ .” Billy chuckled around the filter of his smoke.

“Chick’s a bitch, dude.” His Californian jargon escaping for a moment. “I mean, how fucking hard is it to scoop ice cream?” Steve made an agreeing sound before throwing down the clothes in his hand.

“God damn it! I don’t have any clean shirts!” He pointed a glare at Billy. “YOU were supposed to remind me to wash the damn things!” Billy’s eyes went wide, fake hurt in them. His hand lifted to his chest.

“Excuse me?” He hugged dramatically. “Are you saying you  _ didn’t  _ have fun last night?” Steve cracked a smile then, shaking his head and reaching for the god awful sailor uniform off of his dresser.

“So, are we still meeting tonight? I get off at eight.” Steve was pulling his too short, blue shorts on. Billy’s eyes watched him carefully before answering.

“As far as I know. I get off at nine. I get to close tonight since Heather is such a lazy fucking bitch.” The words made Steve flinch just a touch.

“Do you know how to refer to women as anything else?” Billy pursed his lips thoughtfully, hand holding his cigarette to his lips.

“Lazy fucking broad?” Rolling his eyes, Steve straightened his shirt, looking around for his sneakers.

“Not any better, Hargrove.” His words had a bit of bite too them. “If you like fucking them, you might as well respect them.” Both shoes on, hat in hand, Steve prepared to leave his room. Billy stood up as well.

“I only fuck you these days, sweetheart.” His words were all charm, catching Steve’s attention suddenly. Rather than let the inevitable blush trip him up, Steve smiled, turned his body until he was flush up against Billy’s and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his lips. Billy growled into Steve’s mouth, biting down on his lip hungrily. Before the blonde could get his arms around Steve, Harrington pulled back and gave his best impression of Billy’s own wicked smile.

“Technically,” His voice was low. “I fuck YOU, remember?” Billy licked his bottom lip, eyes locked on Steve’s mouth, panting.

“Is that right?” Steve took a step back and smiled.

“I’ve got to go.” He turned to leave and pulled his house key out of his pocket. “Lock up before you leave?” The keys tossed in the air, and Billy caught them with one hand. He nodded his head.

Steve turned to walk out of the room, making his way out into the hallway before his body stopped short, his mind working suddenly. Billy had said he’s the only one he fucks. As much as that wasn’t exactly a term of endearment, Steve couldn’t help but wonder, did that mean they were exclusive? He told himself he needed to know, just in case he ever had the opportunity to sleep with someone else, ignored the voice in his head that laughed at him mockingly. ‘Oh yeah, sure Harrington. Because you’ve got bitches falling ALL over you.’ He rolled his own eyes; he’s been spending way too much time with Billy.

His head turned back toward the door, and his mouth spoke before he could stop it. “Hey, Billy?” Billy’s head popped out of the room, body still hidden by the doorframe.

“What did you forget?” Steve shook his head, eyes averted to the empty space just below Billy’s hand on the threshold.

“Nothing, I just-“ He swallowed hard. “You said I’m the only one you’ve been fucking these days.” He saw Billy’s one eyebrow rise in response, offering more. “Does that mean,” What was he even doing? “you’re not going to fuck anyone else?” How actually clingy could he be? 

Steve immediately regretted the question when Billy’s face fell, knuckles going white where it held the door. He shook his head quickly, wanting to delete the last minute of his life. Rewind and redo. “Never mind, forget I asked.” And with that, he walked down the hall, down the stairs, and out the front door, into the sunlight that had so frustratingly woken him.

Billy leaned against the driver door of the Camaro, arms crossed, hands trying hard not to fidget. The parking lot of the Starcourt Mall was nearly empty, save for some lone employees that were still coming out. He chewed on his lip, looking into the glass doors. Where the fuck was Harrington? It was already nine-fucking thirty. He was supposed to be off work an hour and a half ago. 

The delay had given Billy some time to process. Pushing the thoughts to the back of his head, he refused to deal with the lingering question in his mind all day. He couldn’t avoid it now, though, standing in the dark by himself. Harrington’s words echoing in his mind, he turned and gripped the roof of his car. ‘Does that mean you’re not going to fuck anyone else?’ It hadn’t crossed Billy’s mind, not even once, since whatever him and Harrington were doing had started. It didn’t even occur to him.

If he was being completely honest with himself, then no, he wasn’t going to fuck anyone else. But that was a problem, because that meant Billy Hargrove was gay. That meant he had a boyfriend. That meant he couldn’t hide Steve forever. That meant Steve would want to tell people, fucking FLAUNT it, and Billy wouldn’t have that. His dad would know, Max would know, fucking everyone would know. His mind shuddered at the idea of what his dad would do to him if he found out. He cringed at the thought of Max, and the rest of those stupid fucking kids, laughing at him. Teasing him. The thought made him angry, enraged. He was angry with Steve, for bringing this up. For ruining whatever this goddamn thing was. 

His mind was cut off when he heard footsteps approach. “Man, I am so sorry. These two fucking girls wouldn’t leave. I finally told them I was going to lock them in if they didn’t go.” His mouth was pulled up in a triumphant smile. 

Billy’s head turned, grimace plastered to his face. “I’ve been here for twenty god damn minutes.” Hearing the venom in Billy’s words, Steve froze, arms lifting in front of his slightly, almost bracing for an impact. Hot, angry guilt cut through Billy like a knife, hating making Steve look that way. He swallowed the feeling, remembered he was angry at Steve, not at himself.

“I’m sorry, I got out as fast as I could.” Billy moved his gaze to the forest surrounding the parking lot.

“Whatever. We need to talk.” Steve’s stomach lifted into his throat, so sure he knew why Billy was angry. Had been thinking about it all day. He gulped audibly.

“Okay,” His words were slow, careful. “Where do you want to go.”

Billy’s voice was even now, devoid of all emotion. “Here is fine.” Steve slid his backpack off of his shoulder, plopping it on the hood of the Camaro. He stood silently, waiting.

Pushing down the rage as hard as he could, for one of the first times in Billy Hargrove’s life, he attempted to be rational and calm. “Look,” he started, “I’ve been thinking about what you asked me earlier.” Steve could feel the heartbeat in his chest pulsing. Feeling like he was going to either go into cardiac arrest or vomit. He crossed his arms to hold himself together. Billy wasn’t fucking looking at him. “And the answer is no.” He turned and leaned his hip against the car. Steve was confused, trying to replay his exact words from earlier. It felt encrypted in his mind.

“No? What does that mean?” Billy shrugged.

“No,” Billy drew in a long breath. “I’m not going to stop fucking other people.” Steve felt warm stinging in his eyes, not understanding why. He had expected this, hadn’t he? Knew that Billy Hargrove wasn’t gay. Promised himself he wouldn’t let himself hurt over it.

“Oh.” Was all he could manage to get out, eyes now looking at wet asphalt from an earlier sprinkle from the clouds. He started to form a metaphor in his mind, but stopped himself. It wasn’t worth it. He finally spoke again. “Okay.” His voice fucking broke at the end of the word and he screamed in his head. ‘FUCK!’ He kicked a foot at the ground lightly, arms still crossed, still not looking at Hargrove. His ‘friend’. 

Billy felt something inside him crack just a little when he heard Steve’s voice. He silently cursed himself. ‘You fucking ASSHOLE.’ His hand reached up instinctively, reaching for Steve’s shoulder, but Harrington was too quick. Too hurt. He jerked his body away from Billy, eyes now meeting his, anger written on his lips, tears now beginning to spill.

“Don’t fucking touch me, Billy.” The blonde shrugged, lifted his hands to his face.

“Fuck, Harrington!” His voice was loud now, filling the empty spaces of the parking lot. “I fucking TOLD you, I’m not gay! I don’t date guys! Hell, I don’t date anyone!” Steve snorted and looked at the sky for a beat before snatching his pack off of the car.

“You’re right.” He looked back at Billy now, not able to hide those stupid fucking tears anymore. “You don’t commit to shit, Billy! All you do is FUCK and LEAVE.” Billy felt a stab somewhere near his stomach. This pissed him off. Instead of yelling, he kept his voice smooth, eyes narrowing at Harrington.

“I thought I committed to this friendship pretty good.” His head followed Steve’s when it turned, not allowing him to lose the glare. “I mean, I’ve spent almost every fucking night with you since you’re so afraid of the god damn dark! Driven you home from parties when you’re so wasted you can’t even stand!” His voice got louder. “Reminded you that it wasn’t the end of the god damn world that you couldn’t get into any college in the fucking state!” Steve’s body was locked in place, too angry to stay there anymore. Reached in his pocket for his keys.

“Leave me alone Billy.” He turned on his heel, causing an ugly squealing sound on the wet ground. He walked away, toward his BMW, silently listening for footsteps following him, but instead heard the car door to the Camaro. Heard the growl of the engine. Heard the tires screech as Billy peeled out of the parking lot.

His mind spun in more directions than were necessary, making him fall against his own car, sobs shaking his chest. Fuck Billy Hargrove, was all he could think to himself.

Steve slapped at his alarm clock, rolling over, frustrated that he had to pull himself out of the lazy frustration he had been in all day. Had been in the night before, when his  _ asshole ex-friend _ decided to remind him of how much of a god damn failure he was. That is exactly what he felt like; a failure.

He rolled onto his back, thinking about the day of work he had head of him. He really didn’t have the patience for Robin’s bullshit remarks today. Too tired and too depressed, he pictured walking into Scoops Ahoy, throwing his hat on the counter, and telling Robin exactly where to go. He pictured wiping that annoying smile off her face by quitting, forcing her to work until closing. The thought made him smile until he realized he was too nice for that.

Slowly and regretful, he threw his legs over the edge of the bed and sat up, hands scrubbing at his face and into his hair. His body slowly moved away from his bed toward the bathroom, knowing he needed to wash the night before off of him before trying to deal with the day ahead of him.

Steve stood in front of the bathroom mirror, silently counting the bruises left by Billy’s mouth on his chest, his inner thighs, his hip bone. He shuddered at the thought, an electric shock running down his neck, down his stomach, into his-

He shook off the thought, remembering Billy didn’t want him, didn’t  _ really  _ want him. Only wanted to fuck, only wanted a secret. Also wanted other people, other girls, maybe other guys? He let his mind mull over the images of Billy with someone else.

In his mind, the girl was blonde like Billy, perched on all fours, him behind her, burying himself deep inside of her, his face twisting in that beautiful way it did when he was about to finish. Whatever her name was breathing out of his lips, her loud, obnoxious screaming when he pounded her. He pictured Billy’s hands grabbing her around the hips, scratching down her back, eyes half lidded and mouth hanging open. The thought didn’t send that same shock through Steve, more so knotting his stomach and made his eyes hurt from tears threatening to come up. 

He gripped the counter for support, willing his legs to keep him standing. He looked up at his reflection, eyes rimmed red, and cursed himself. He heard that familiar voice in his head talking again. ‘C’mon dude, it’s not like you loved him.’ He hated that the voice was Billy’s, hated the drawl of a former surfer in his brain. ‘Or did you?’ Steve shook the thought. Of course he didn’t love Billy. Billy was an asshole.

Steve ignored as many of Robin’s comments as he could. She berated him anytime he tried to make awkward conversation with a customer, struggling to keep his mind clear. He was annoyed at how many times Erica had asked for free samples before actually buying one single scoop of the same ice cream she always did. He leaned against the counter, back to the crowded food court, pulling his stupid sailor hat off and running his fingers through my hair.

“Put it back on Harrington, company policy.” He rolled his eyes and slapped the hat back on his head. He made a sarcastic gesture at Robin who nodded in approval. 

Twenty minutes before his lunch break, he saw Anna Jacobi, his old middle school crush talking to Tammy in the food court. He made an impulsive, split decision, turning around and smiling at Robin, who was standing behind the second counter, sliding window open, marking inventory.

“You think I suck?” She popped her head up, an annoyed look on her face. “Watch, and learn.” She rolled her eyes and slid the door shut. He shook off her lack of confidence and turned around as the girls were approaching the counter. He flashed his best smile, leaning with one arm against the glass that the ice cream sat behind.

“Hey Steve!” Anna’s voice was full of excitement. He told himself it was because she saw him, not because of the ice cream.

“Hey Anna.” He nodded his head a suave as he could toward the girl standing next to her. “Hey Tammy.” He threw a small wink in her direction. The girls looked at each other, what looked like surprise on their faces. He brushed it off. “What can I get you ladies?” 

They both smiled sheepishly and Anna pointed to the glass. “I’ll take a single scoop of chocolate.” Tammy piped up beside her.

“I’ll take an orange sherbet.” He nodded his head and quickly fixed up their cones, moving over to the register. He handed her the cone.

“Alright, one scoop of chocolate, that’s a buck twenty-five.” She reached into her bag and he took a mental note of her college sweatshirt. Conversation material is what he needed. Before he could carefully decide what to say, he blurted, “Ooh, Purdue!” She looked back at him with a smile. “Fancy.” 

‘Dude What was that?’ He shushed the voice in his head while she handed him the money. She giggled.

“Yeah, I’m excited.” He began pressing buttons on the register, not paying much attention as to what he was actually pushing.

“Yeah, you know, I considered it, Purdue.” ‘Stop while you’re ahead, Harrington.’ He couldn’t help it, the words wouldn’t stop. “But then I was like, you know what? I really think I need some real-life experience, you know?” He could hear how ridiculous he sounded, but it wasn’t stopping. “Before I hit college.” He didn’t need the voice to tell him he should stop. “See what it feels like.” Anna stood, licking her ice cream, staring, unamused. “Kinda like, uh, see what it’s like to make a working-man’s wage you know?” The register beeped and he dropped coins onto the counter. He could feel his face getting hot, but he was stubborn. He could still turn this around.

“Uh,” there was a loud beeping. “Oh, I’m sorry.” He decided to go back to his original thought. “I think that’s like, really important.”

“Yeah, totally.” She rolled her eyes and looked over at Tammy, who was staring in bewildered amusement. He put his smile back on.

“Yeah, anyway, this was like, so fun.” She chuckled nervously as he handed back her change. “We should kind of like, you know, I don’t know, maybe hang out this weekend?” He dropped her coins. “Oh sorry about that. I don’t know, maybe next weekend or-“

She cut him off. “Yeah, I’m busy.” She gave a sweet smile.

“Oh, that’s cool, I’m-I’m working here next weekend so the following weekend’s better for me.” He began to accept his defeat at this point. Her face showed she was over the conversation.

“No, I’m sorry, I can’t.” And with that, she was gone. For whatever reason his mouth kept moving.

“I-this is my first day here.” But it was useless. He was a loser, and he knew it.

He heard the glass window opening and turned to see the whiteboard, keeping a tally of his failures. Robin’s hand slid a new tally in the ‘You Suck’ column.

“And another one bites the dust!” The marker made a squeaking sound. “You are oh-for-six Popeye!” Steve spoke quickly.

“Yeah, yeah I can count.” His arms folded in front of him.

“You know that means you suck?” He nodded his head.

“Yeah, I can read too.”

“Since when?” He approached her, becoming so irritated he could barely stand it.

“It’s this stupid hat! I am telling you, It is totally blowing my best feature!”

“Yeah, company policy is a real drag.” She set the whiteboard down and leaned on the counter in front of her. “You know, it’s a crazy idea, but have you considered…” She trailed off for a second. “telling the truth?” He shrugged his arms onto the counter.

“Oh, you mean that I couldn’t even get into tech and my douchebag dad’s trying to teach me a lesson, I make three bucks an hour, and I have no future? That truth?” And the guy I was sleeping with is a total fucking asshole? He didn’t say that part out loud. Her eyes looked behind him and she pointed.

“Hey, twelve o’clock.” He turned his head to see a redhead with large curly hair approaching the counter with a group of friends. He wasn’t sure why Robin continued to help him try to flirt with girls, having no stake in his love life whatsoever. He stuttered for a moment, deciding to get back on the horse.

“Oh shit, oh shit.” He turned his head back. “I’m goin’ in, okay?” He looked up at Robin. “And you know what?” He lifted his hat and tossed it behind her. “Screw company policy.” Her eyes went wide in mock surprise.

“Oh my God, you’re a whole new man.” He wiggled his head at her.

“Right?” He turned around toward the girls. Louder than he would’ve liked, he shouted, “Ahoy ladies!” This excited a gasp from the redhead. “Didn’t see you there! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain.” Oh, dear lord. “I’m Steve Harrington.” And he could feel Robin and the Billy-voice inside his head slap a palm to their face.

Steve slung his backpack over his shoulder and pulled his keys from the locker he kept his belongings in at work. He only had an hour, and after several failed attempts at pursuing almost every girl who came to the register, sans minors, he had decided he was going to talk to Billy. To confront him.

Three weeks wasn’t a long time to most people, but to Steve it was the perfect amount of time for whatever the hell it was him and Billy had going on to not be worth tossing out over one of the latter’s temper tantrums. Billy had kissed him, touched him, comforted him, and he had done the same. He was  _ not  _ getting out of this so easy. Not after what they had done.

He figured he would be honest with Hargrove, staying cool, calm, and collected as he offered a compromise to their position. They’re not dating, they stay a secret, they never have to tell anyone, but they DO NOT fuck other people. They still hang out like normal, they can flirt if they want, but they save the sex for each other, because really, it’s just more sanitary that way.

Steve thought about the scenario where Billy didn’t agree, completely shut him down. He wondered what he would do if that was the case. He told himself he would back off, tell Billy whatever ‘friendship’ they had was over, in every way. He pictured walking away from him and never looking back, finding himself a nice girl to help him forget, and never think about Billy Hargrove again. The voice inside his head laughed at him.

“Where ya going, dingus?” Robin asked from behind where Steve was lifting his uniform shirt off of his head, replacing it with a regular t-shirt, and stuffing it into his backpack. He started walking out of the back room, making his way to the front of the ice cream parlor and into the mall. She chimed in.

“Ooh! If you go to Hot Dog on a Stick, get me one with extra mustard!” 

He called behind him as he walked out, “I’m not going to Hot Dog on a Stick, Robin.” Which caused her to slump mopingly against the counter, hand balancing her chin, staring after him as he half-jogged to the mall exit.

The drive to the Hawkins Public Pool was hot, and he felt beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He only had an hour, so he was driving fast enough to get him a ticket, but he just didn’t care. He drove past kids from his class enjoying summer, teenagers kissing on park benches, he tried to not let the sights distract him.

Steve really did love summer. The heat, the sun, the freedom always excited him. This summer had already been so different, it made him feel more dread than happiness.

The BMW pulled into an employee parking space right next to the Camaro. He didn’t even bother worrying about it getting towed. Every life guard had once worshipped him in high school, and knew Billy was his best friend, so he assumed they would all be too afraid to pull such a stunt. He fast-paced through the doors, to the small office where the off-duty guards relaxed to get out of the heat. He passed a ‘Hey Harrington’ from Adam Carter as he ran past, eyes scanning the pool area for Billy, heart in his chest.

In the split second it took for his eyes to find Billy, his stomach felt like it had fallen ten stories, through the concrete beneath his feet, down into the very core of the Earth. He saw the blonde curls, the face they hid only inches away from… He couldn’t quite make out the woman at first, just knew she was blonde and had a soccer mom look. He watched Billy’s mouth so close to her face that he was certain she could feel his breath on her lips, could smell his cologne that he wore way too much of. He saw the way her body leaned into his just a little more with every word.

Billy turned around and walked in the other direction, back toward his guard chair; Steve thought that’s when he noticed him standing by the showers in blue sailor shorts, his own Led Zeppelin t-shirt, mouth hanging open, finally realizing the woman he was finessing, flirting with, and likely making plans with, was MRS. WHEELER. Nancy’s mother. The woman he pictured would be his mother-in-law one day. The urge to vomit had never been so strong.

Billy’s eyes were fixed on Steve, whose eyes were staring off after Karen, who was now ushering Holly back to their bench, a star-struck grin plastered on her face. That fucking whore. Who the fuck did she think she was? She’s married, with three children, and she had obviously made plans with Billy. Made plans to meet him, kiss him, touch him. Let him touch her, the same way he touched-

“Harrington?” Steve’s eyes flashed to Hargrove, now standing approximately ten inches away from him, a look of confusion and concern on his face. “What’re you doing here, man? You alright?” Steve’s jaw clenched involuntarily, hands balling into fists at his sides, eyes going back to glare at the blonde slut across the pool. White-hot electric rage burned in his veins, making it impossible to keep an even tone. His prior plan of keeping it cool had officially gone out the window, hit the pavement, and splattered.

He didn’t look at Billy when he spoke. “I’m fine, Hargrove.” He knew Billy could feel the anger through his teeth, his face shifting to something closer to defensive concern.

“What’s goin’ on, Steve?” His hand reached out to grab Steve’s wrist, and he only caught it out of the corner of his eye, but it was enough to allow him to rip his arms just out of Billy’s reach with enough haste that a few of the pool patrons took notice. Billy’s head snapped around, and he gave everyone the glare that said, ‘Mind your own goddamn business’, and they looked away quickly.

Steve’s head was turned to him now, feet slowly backing away. “Don’t fucking touch me, Billy.” His voice was surprisingly even, menacing, threatening. He wasn’t this angry often. 

Billy’s hands flew up to his sides, stepping a foot back. “Alright dude, fuck. The hell is wrong with you, Harrington?” It was an act. Always a show with Billy. Because Steve was his secret. His DIRTY little secret, and no one could know.

Something in Steve’s brain clicked, finally feeling as though he would vomit if he didn’t leave at that very moment. The recognition of what he truly was to Billy made him feel like his insides were covered with slime. He shook his head and turned on his heel, angrily power-walking toward the gates, back to his car. Back to Scoops Ahoy, and Robin, and his miserable life. With every step he took, his eyes began to sting. The tears were threatening him, and the lump in his throat was growing. He wouldn’t fucking cry. He wouldn’t fucking cry. He would not fucking cry.

In his angry half-jog, he didn’t hear footsteps struggling to keep up. It wasn’t until he felt a hand tug his right arm, pulling him haphazardly into the shower areas that he noticed Billy had been following him. The door to the showers shut behind them with a quiet banging sound. The room was dark and full of lockers, and the smell of chlorine was overwhelming.

“Steve!” Billy huffed our his words, clearly out of breath from trying to catch Steve and then drag him at least fifty feet into some damn privacy. “Fucking talk to me, man!” Billy was pleading, and it pleased that sadistic part of Steve that hated him. 

Harrington’s tongue was against his cheek, eyes fixed on Billy, angry tears freely flowing down his cheeks. “You want to talk?” His voice was quiet, but he couldn’t stop himself when he threw his hands out, shoving Billy back toward the lockers. “You want to fucking TALK?” He was yelling now, letting the anger spill.

Billy threw his hands out to block Steve’s lashing. “Fuck, Harrington!” 

“KAREN,” Shove. “FUCKING,” Shove. “WHEELER?!” Hard shove. Billy’s back hit the lockers that time, eliciting a groan from the blonde. His blue eyes flashed into Steve’s, understanding now littering his features. He dropped his hands and lowered his voice to just above a whisper.

“Steve…” He must have expected to be cut off, or pushed again, but Steve crossed his arms, planting his feet. He wanted to hear this. Billy shrugged then, face dropping to stare at his bare feet. “We talked about this.” And it was less than a second before he felt hot stinging in his cheeks. Steve had dragged his knuckles with all his strength across his face. Billy then felt the anger, the defenses rising. He didn’t respond, forced himself to physically take the hit. He did deserve it, after all.

“You son of a bitch!” Another fist swiped his other cheek, and he gritted his teeth. “So, what? I’m no better to you than a horny housewife at the goddamn pool?!” His fists were ready, wanting Billy to fight back. It only enraged him further when he didn’t. His knuckles came back to land a blow right on his beautiful, sensual, loud fucking mouth. 

Billy chuckled then, laying his head back on the lockers. He spit blood onto the floor to his right, letting his head lull to the side.

“I guess not.” Something inside Steve broke. He felt a long, earth shattering crack run through his body, his insides threatening to spill onto the floor in front of them. His tears became something else, not angry, but broken.

Billy’s hands were on him now, pulling at his arms, hastily reaching for his face. He knew he had hurt Steve, and Billy could not say he wasn’t equally as devastated that whatever this was, this ‘friendship’, seemed to be ending before his very eyes.

Steve fought Billy’s arms as long as they could, pushing and letting small sobs that sounded a lot like ‘No’ out. Billy was relentless, completely intent on comforting him now. Nothing else mattered to Billy, but Steve didn’t know.

The blonde’s arms came to wrap around Steve’s shoulders, letting the taller boy fold into him after the fighting was over. He was physically holding Steve together, trying to remember every detail. The smell of his hair, the smoothness of his skin, the warmth of his body. Because Billy knew it was over.

Steve wouldn’t have come here unless his feelings were strong. Wouldn’t have ran when he saw him with Karen, wouldn’t have punched him, eyes screaming the betrayal he felt, unless he really cared for Billy. Billy knew that he had to end it, because you can’t hide feelings like that. It was only a matter of time, and everyone would know. And his dad would kill him, physically kill him. He had to end it.

They sat for a few moments before anyone spoke, and it was Billy. “You know how much you mean to me.” His lips were pressed to the back of Steve’s neck. His eyes were trained on the showerheads across the room, never letting the salty drops escape the rims. He could feel Steve shake his head.

“I mean nothing to you.” His voice was small, far too small for someone so strong. Billy’s arms tightened around Harrington, wishing they could both just disappear.

“You mean everything to me.” And with that, Billy let one tear go, hating himself. “That’s why it’s over.” 

His hand hit the wall in front of him, his face twisted into a painful grimace. It was 7:30, he was dressed and ready to leave. Ready to head to the Motel 6 on Cornwallis. Ready to meet Mrs. Wheeler and put Steve out of his head for the rest of his life. A voice that sounded strangely like Harrington’s laughed in his head. ‘Yeah, we’ll fucking see’.

He steered the Camaro down the main highway out of Hawkins, blaring heavy metal, tapping his fingers on the dash in front of the wheel. He took a deep breath and let out a wild, carefree chuckle. Who gave a fuck? Feelings were for pussies, according to his dad. He was on his way to nail the hottest MILF in fucking Hawkins. Nothing fucking mattered. Fuck Steve Harrington. 

Billy adjusted his rear view mirror so he could see his own eyes. “Hey Karen.” He sucked his tongue between his teeth. “You don’t mind if I call you Karen, do you?” He sighed, and grinned menacingly. “Good.” 

A split second had passed, and the car was spinning, his hands desperately trying to correct it onto the road. Something had hit the windshield, cracking it in front of his face. When it finally rested, it was pressed against a group of old trees. Billy’s eyes were fuzzy around the edges.

“Oh, no.” He groaned and looked at the unlit radio. “No.” He hit it a few times with no luck. “Piece of shit.” He grimaced, feeling something on his forehead stinging. His finger reached up and felt warm blood pooling and dripping down his forehead. “Shit.”

He slapped the steering wheel a few times before opening the door. “Damn it!” He almost fell out of the door and looked around. He had landed outside of some sort of warehouse that smelled like animal shit. He walked to the passenger side of the door to see it crushed in against the tree trunk. ”Oh shit.” His hand tried the handle a couple of times before he slapped it.

“Damn it!” He walked back toward the back of the vehicle, letting out an angry kick at the quarter panel.

“Piece of shit!” He stalked over to the driver’s side, slamming the door closed and approached the windshield. Steam hissed from under the hood.

He bent his head down closer, examining the cracked glass when he noticed some kind of goo all over the windshield. He dipped a finger down onto it, eerily confused. What the fuck had hit him?

“What the hell?” And then a screeching, skittering sound immersed from somewhere behind him. His head snapped around, looking for whatever made the noise. He puffed his chest and took a step toward the forest.

“Who’s there?” His voice was demanding, his eyes scanning the woods. “Hey!” He took a few steps forward. “I said who’s there?!” 

At that very second, he felt something wrap around his ankle, yanking him down onto the hard ground painfully and pulling him toward the warehouse. His hands scrambled to grab onto something, anything, but found nothing. His side hit the door of the warehouse, making a loud scream escape Billy before he was pulled toward the stairs.

His hands hooked around the frame of the door, holding on with all he had, but a hard, fast tug pulled him down the stairs. All Billy Hargrove could do was scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting! This chapter directly corresponded with S3 E1. Comments and kudos are everything! 🖤


	3. Chapter Two: The Voice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it still considered crazy to hear your own voice in your head?

His face was wet, that was about the only thing Billy was absolutely sure of. Everything else was very up in the air. He vaguely remembered hitting his head, and crashing his car. He knew his side hurt like absolute  _ hell _ , and his mouth… His mouth tasted like death. Death and blood.

When his eyes opened, he was greeted with the dark ceiling of the warehouse. It was the same night, he was sure. That’s when the memory came back, screaming in his head. The crash, the trees, the sounds, the tentacle…

Billy pushed himself to his feet, forcing himself to keep his balance as he ran as fast as his legs would allow. He beelined through the door, straight for his car. It would start, something inside him knew it would. He plunged his body into the driver’s seat and turned the key, a small sense of relief flooding him when he heard the engine turn over. His hand shifted the gear and his foot hit the pedal, skidding away from the trees, onto the road, leaves kicking up under his tires. 

Billy’s eyes kept shifting to his rearview mirror, not exactly knowing what he was looking for, but looking anyway. He caught sight of the sickening brown slime on his face, his gag reflex threatening to erupt anything from his stomach onto his dash. He swallowed dryly, working to ignore the taste of rotting meat on his tongue.

The pay phone box glowed brightly, his tires coming to a stop in front of it. He flew out of the car, legs carrying him toward the phone. Who would he call? His mind flashed to Steve, who always said he had an idea of how to deal with the  _ bad things  _ that lived in this town. Until now, he didn’t know that Steve meant, but he was pretty sure he had a fucking  _ idea _ now.

His fingers dialed, number flashing bright in his memory. His head whipped around violently as he checked his surroundings, still not knowing what was out in the woods. He heard the voice through the phone.

“Hello?” Steve’s voice was tired, likely sleeping by now. Billy almost spoke before the lights in the box began flickering, the voice on the other end distorting to something inhuman. “Hello? Is anyone there?” And then the lights were gone.

The sky looked different then, a dark box surrounding him. His hand placed the phone back on the hook, body moving out of the booth involuntarily. The headlights of his Camaro shined on his legs, and Billy could see the particles of  _ something _ floating in the beams. Thunder clapped around him, and he knew he was  _ somewhere else _ . The world around him looked like the main highway, the same woods, the same Hawkins, but so  _ different _ . Fog was rolling on the ground, making everything difficult to see.

A group of shadows were coming toward him; people. He couldn’t make out their faces.

“What do you want?” His voice was smaller than he wanted it to be. It finally occurred to Billy, just how terrified he was. He felt like his knees could just buckle from underneath him, almost wished they would. He swelled his chest, forcing his voice to be louder.

“Hey! I said what do you want?!” No response. He was trying so hard to be angry, but the booming thunder around him and the fog creeping had his voice shaking. “I said what do you want!” A burst of red lightning sparked behind him.

He watched, eyes fixed on the shadows moving toward him. His pupils began to dilate, adjusting to the darkness, when he recognized the man walking toward him. The perfect blonde curls matched his wet, sweat covered ones, eyes as blue as his own. It was him, but it wasn’t. It was something else, some kind of creature. Something inside of him twisted.

“To build.” The voice was distorted, echoing like radio static in his ears. “I want you to build.” Billy’s face was screwed up, scared and confused.

“To build what?”

“What you see.” He looked over the other Billy’s shoulder, the mass of shadow people behind him. It didn’t make  _ sense _ .

“I don’t understand.” The lightning cracked again, and in front of him was the highway, wet and clear like it was before. He was back in Hawkins, his not-self vanished. The frustration bubbled in his chest.

“I don’t understand!” He was yelling into nothingness, empty road and woods. His body did a circle, searching for answers. “What do you mean?! I don’t understand!”

Billy stood in that space for a long while, head turning at breakneck speed, attempting to understand what happened. It took a vehicle driving down the road, headlights burning his face before he moved off the highway, staring back down the road, before he drove away toward his home.

Neil was already asleep, thankfully snoring loudly from his bedroom. He looked into Max’s room quickly to insure she was there, snoozing soundly on her pillow, just as he did every night. His hands were trembling, mouth still feeling like it was growing mold, so he stepped into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Billy stared at himself for a long time in the mirror, checking the cut on his forehead, looking at the sludge on his skin. He noticed the tears rolling down his cheeks and shook his head. His arm reached into the shower, turning the knob until the spray was at full-force. The sound of the water on the tile rang in his ears, making his head throb.

When he allowed the gravity of what happened sink in, he began tearing at his clothes, leather jacket falling on the floor, jeans discarded next to it. When he was finally able to see all of himself, he inspected his skin for further injury. He looked like Billy Hargrove, skin tan and lips red, as they always were, but he felt  _ wrong _ . He felt violated and like something was crawling inside his gut. The sensation had him barreling into the shower, turning the temperature until it wasn’t too hot, knob almost turned all the way to cold, and letting the spray wash over him.

After scrubbing his skin until it was red and screaming, he pressed his forehead to the tile and pulled at his hair. He was continuously asking himself what the fuck just happened.

_ Hey Billy _ .

Billy jumped back, foot slipping on the wet tile and back falling hard against the adjacent wall. His breathing picked up. It was  _ his  _ voice, in his head, but it wasn’t  _ him _ who was speaking. The voice chuckled, his usual garish laughter.

_ Easy now. Don’t want you damaging my merchandise. _

Billy’s hands were pulling at his stringy, wet curls, feeling some of his hair disconnecting from his scalp. His skull was banging against the wall behind him.

“What is happening? What is happening?” He repeated to himself over and over. His tears were falling freely now. He was just so confused.

_ There’s really no need for that. What’s done is done. Rocking back and forth like a pussy isn’t going to help. _

He took a shaky breath, air feeling like fire out of his lungs.

_ C’mon, let’s get dried off. Wrinkles aren’t a good look on us. _

His body straightened, standing up, and moving out of the shower. The interesting part was,  _ Billy wasn’t moving himself _ . He was following along, a spectator behind his own eyes while his muscles pulled him out of the shower. He wanted to scream, get someone’s attention, even if it was his asshole father’s. Maybe he could beat the insanity out of Billy. He preferred it.

He was standing in front of the mirror, wrapping a towel around his waist when he noticed his reflection. It was him, but the  _ other _ him. No cut on the forehead, no red eyes, nothing. It was the wrong Billy. He stood there, completely helpless, and watched as the person in the mirror began  _ speaking. _

_ See? Nothing you can do now. I can take control if you need me to. _

“Who the fuck are you?” His words were whispered. His reflection pursed his lips.

_ I’m you. _

Billy shook his head violently. “No, you’re not. You’re-“ he thought back to the warehouse. The fleshy, bloody tentacle attaches to his face. “you’re that  _ thing. _ ” Other Billy smiled a devious, twisted smirk.

_ Smart boy. Much smarter than I anticipated, now that I’m in your head. _

  
  


Bananas are fucking stupid, Steve thought to himself, as he cut the fortieth one. His hands were sticky and covered in grainy fruit residue when his ears picked up a voice coming from the front of the store.

“Is he here?” Dustin.

“Is  _ who _ here?” Robin, in her usual patronizing tone. He broke for the door, feet sliding when his shoulder opened it.

“Henderson!” Steve’s body rushed with excitement. “ _ Henderson! _ ” He looked at Robin, who rolled her eyes. “He’s back!” He jumped in the air. “He’s back!”

“I’m back!” Steve’s laughter matched Dustin’s. “You got the job!”

“I got the job!” He played his imaginary, celebratory trombone before entering into their sacred handshake, letting Dustin fake-stab him with a lightsaber. They both laughed uncontrollably as Robin’s voice entered their moment.

“How many children are you friends with?” 

He and Dustin sat in the booth furthest from Scoops he could find, letting the younger boy dig into his triple banana split, listening to him describe his new girlfriend.

“No, no. No way, hotter than Phoebe Cates? No.”

Dustin shoveled in another spoonful. “Mhm, brilliant too. And she doesn’t even care that my real pearls are still comin’ in. She says kissing is better without teeth.”

Steve had to physically stop himself from making a face and laughing. “Wow. Yeah, that’s great. Proud of you man. That’s, uh, that’s kind of romantic. That’s like...wow.” Dustin nodded in agreement.

“So, do you really get to just eat as much of this as you want?”

“Yeah, uh, I mean sure.” He gestured to the bowl. “It’s not really a good idea for me, though. You know, I gotta keep in shape, for the ladies.”

“Yeah, and how’s that workin’ out for ya?” Robin was clearing trays near the trash can. Steve felt his irritation bubble.

“Ignore her.” Dustin eyed him.

“She seems cool.”

“She’s not.” Dustin raised an eyebrow and looked back at Robin.

“She’s cute.” Steve turned back to look at where she was now wiping the counter, her finger coming up to flip him off. He sighed.

“Yeah, maybe. But uh,” He looked back down at the table in front of him. “But no.” Dustin focused all of his attention on him now, going in to little brother mode.

“Somethin’ you need to talk about, Steve-O?” He shook his head as nonchalantly as he could.

“No, why?” Dustin scooped another spoonful of ice cream.

“You haven’t looked like that since Nancy dumped your ass for Jonathan.” Steve’s eyes popped open wide.

“Language!” He secretly wondered when he became such a  _ mom _ . “And Nancy did not  _ dump my ass _ , alright? I technically dumper  _ her,  _ remember?” Dustin rolled his eyes.

“Okay, so you date anyone while I was gone?” Steve shook his head, biting his lower lip.

“Nah, I’ve been busy.” The younger boy’s eyes narrowed. Steve tried to hide his face behind his soda cup.

“With Billy?” He spit his drink out on the table, choking on the liquid burning his throat. His voice came down to an agitated whisper.

“Dustin!” He ducked his head. “What are you  _ talking  _ about?!” Dustin smiled wide, a giggle escaping him.

“Man, I totally knew something was going on. You’re  _ always _ together.” Steve laid his head down on his hands. Wondered why this thirteen-year-old boy was so fucking smart.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” His voice was muffled.

“Hey, no judgement.” Dustin’s hands came up defensively. “I think you could do  _ a lot  _ better than Billy, though.” Steve lifted his head then, confusion painting his face.

“What?” He sat back a bit. “You do?” 

Dustin nodded his head in an obvious way. “Oh, yeah. Billy can be a real dick.” Steve shrugged at that, playing with the corner of a napkin with his fingers.

“Yeah, you’re right about that one.” He sighed heavily. “Doesn’t really matter now, anyway.” Dustin furrowed his brow.

“Why?” 

“We kind of…” Steve worked to find the words. “broke up? If you can even call it that? We were never really  _ together _ to begin with.” Dustin nodded, not prying further.

“I’m sorry man, but hey, I might have something to cheer you up!” And Steve was all ears as he listened to Dustin tell him about him picking up a Russian transmission over his long-range radio, Cerebro, he called it, undeniably thankful for the change of subject.

  
  


Billy padded through the locker room of the Community Pool, finding his locker and digging for the spare toothbrush he kept there. He already brushed his teeth at least eight times, but it didn’t remove the taste in his mouth, no matter how hard he scrubbed.

_ Don’t think that goes away, big guy. Didn’t for Will Byers. _

He decided not to dwell on that thought for too long, too concentrated on throwing his clothes onto the floor. Where the  _ fuck  _ was his toothbrush?

_ You know what might work better? _

Billy did his best to ignore the voice, pushing it to the back of his head. 

_ Chlorine _ .

His spine went rigid and his blood ran cold. Chlorine? He spoke to the voice quietly. “That’ll kill me.”

_ Not with me here, it won’t. Might make you feel better. _

The voice was almost sympathetic, making his skin crawl. But he thought about it then, it would probably get that fucking taste out of his mouth.

He stomped out of the locker room and nearly ran to the supply room, hands searching the bottles. Algaecide. Calcium hypochlorite. Cyanuric acid. And then he found it, almost glowing green in the bottle, pure chlorine.

He was desperate. Fingers twisting the cap off frantically, bringing the bottle to his lips and  _ chugging _ . The chemical burned his throat, made him want to scream, want to vomit, but the voice inside him just purred.

_ So good. _

Billy’s ears picked up the sound of footsteps entering the closet, and his hand put down the bottle quickly.

“Billy?” Karen Wheeler. Her voice made his insides growl. “I-“ She paused, stepping closer. “I understand if you’re angry with me. I just…” Closer. “I wanted to explain,” Billy let a sharp exhale out of his nose. “why I didn’t come last night.”

Billy felt his hand twitch, the other him threatening to take over. “It’s not you, it’s just…” His heartbeat was loud in his ears, speeding up with every word she spoke. “I have a family.” Closer. “And I can’t do anything that will hurt them.” Closer. “You can understand that, right?” He heard her sigh. “But I shouldn’t have said that I-“

His body twisted, his hand flew up and shoved her head hard into the shelves next to them. He let in a long breath when her body hit the floor and blinked. When his eyes opened, he was standing back toward the shelves.

_ We should do it. _

Billy fought. He fought hard against his hand that was trying to move without his consent. She was innocent. More tears fell from his eyes.

“Billy.” His breathing was loud and his body hurt. “Billy? Please, will you talk to me?”

_ Fine. Not this one. _

His body shifted and his face looked at her. His words slipped out easier than he had expected.

“Stay away from me, Karen.” And he shoved passed her, out to the lifeguard chair.

He didn’t know when he dozed off, he only remembered it being so fucking  _ hot _ . He knew he was asleep, though, because he had been there before. It was a dark, pitch black space with only about an inch of water on the ground. He found his bed next to him, the only thing he could see. 

Billy scrambled to sit down, pressed his back against the rail, and pulled his knees to his chest. He felt his body tremble with sobs, still just so scared as to what was happening to him. He heard the rushing of air, and looked up to see his other self standing in front of the bed.

_ You’re weak _ .

Billy growled, angry and exhausted. “Go away!” His doppelgänger laughed, a menacing sound.

_ No can do, Billy boy. I’m in control, not you. _

“Why are you doing this? What do you want?!” He locked his arms around himself.

_ I told you what I want. _

The other him looked to his right.

_ And I know what you want. _

Billy’s eyes followed, a booth he recognized from Starcourt now appearing in the blackness. He heard the voice.

“No, no. No way, hotter than Phoebe Cates? No.” Steve sat alone at the booth, sporting his full Scoops Ahoy uniform. He was talking to someone Billy couldn’t see.

“Steve?” He stood off the bed and walked over to the table. He slammed his hand down once, twice, a third time. “Steve!” But then it was gone. Smoke vanishing between his fingers.

_ You think he’s yours. _

He turned back to look at his other self, eyes now dark.

“Don’t you fucking  _ dare _ .” He spit venom, not showing how panicked he was becoming.

_ Then do as I say. And stop fighting. _

He glanced to where the table had faded.

_ Or our Stevie boy will be my newest plaything. _

Billy startled awake, seeing the pool and patrons coming into focus. He shrugged heavily, his elbow burning like it was being seared right off. He glanced at his arm to see the wound, third-degree burns forming. He jumped down from the chair and stumbled across the cement, showers in sight.

Billy turned the shower head to cold, sighing at the icy water cooling his skin graciously. He looked down to see then, black, jagged lines like veins running up his arm. His fingers reached out to touch it, a high pitched ringing sound in his ears.

His hands came up, head feeling like it would explode, and clutched his ears, a scream escaping his throat. He huffed hard, trying to regain himself when he heard a voice over the shrieking.

“Billy?” He scurried back on his haunches, a caged animal. “Billy.” Heather stood, staring at him through the spray. She crouched down to meet his eyes. “Take me to him.”

“What?” He breathes out, trying to insure he was still in reality.

“I said, are you hurt?” Her look was concerned. “What’s going on? I heard screaming? Should I call an ambulance?” His fingers clutched his legs and he felt himself losing control. 

_ She’ll do _ .

  
  


Steve held the ice cream cones out to Max and Eleven, who were giggling to each other as teenage girls do. Steve furrowed his eyebrows at El. “Wait a second, are you even allowed to be here?” They looked at one another, a smear of ice cream on Eleven’s lip, and laughed again before turning around and running for the exit. Steve just shrugged it off.

He shouldered his backpack, making his way to his car in the parking lot. Dustin had caught a ride with Robin, living much closer to her than to his mansion in Loch Nora. He repeated the words to himself over and over, his brain working hard to crack the code.

“The week is long. The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west.” His voice was under his breath, and Steve sighed heavily as he tossed his pack into the car. 

When he turned to lower himself into the driver’s seat, Steve’s eyes caught it at a glance, the blue Camaro sitting, facing his in the parking lot. The car was off, but he could see the shadow of the boy sitting behind the steering wheel.

“What the hell?” He slammed his door shut and strode over to the car, his chest pounding under his shirt. “The fuck are you doing here, Hargrove?” He shouted. He stopped, five feet between him and the hood of the Camaro, arms crossed over his chest. It took a minute, but the door opened with a loud metal creak, Billy’s body nearly tumbling out of the seat. Steve watched Billy stagger toward him, trying hard not to reach out and steady his shoulders.

“Steve.” His words came out slurred.

“Are you drunk, Billy?” Billy just kept his eyes on Steve, sweat beading down his forehead, hair mussed up and sticking in different directions.

“I…” he trailed off, lowering his head. “I wanted to see you. See that you were okay.” His words were a little clearer, but his face was twitching every few seconds. Maybe it was drugs.

“Yeah,” Steve scoffed, arms dropped to his sides. “I’m fine, but  _ you  _ look like hell.” Billy chuckled then, almost a sob.

“Yeah, I uh,” His eyes were darting, face twisting in small ways. “I just…”

“Are you alright? Do you need a ride home?” His head snapped up then, eyes finding Steve’s.

“No!” He held a hand up between them. “No, I don’t. I’m fine.” Billy was anything  _ but  _ convincing. Steve took a step toward him but Billy tumbled back, hand steadying himself on the hood of his car.

“Don’t, just-“ He began shouting. “Just stay there!” 

“Alright!” Steve had his hands up, ready to catch Billy if needed.

“I left some stuff at your house. I need to get it.” Steve nodded. He gestured toward his car. 

“Okay, do you want to just follow me there?” Billy shook his head, moving back toward his driver door.

“No, not right now.” He looked at Steve for only a second, and something in the look he gave made Steve’s stomach turn. Something was seriously  _ wrong _ with Billy. “I’ll be there later tonight.” And then he was getting in his car, reversing, and speeding through the parking lot.

  
  


Heather was limp in his arms while he carried her into the warehouse. He moved without a hope of stopping himself, wanting to so badly, but images of Steve flashing in front of him. Steve; neck being snapped, being violated terribly, getting stabbed and intestines falling out. The images were keeping him at bay, allowing  _ Him _ to do as he pleased with Billy’s body.

Billy’s hands set her down, gently placing her on the ground as she began to rouse from unconsciousness. Her whimpers echoed off the decaying walls of the building, arms and legs straining against the binds. He bent his head down so his lips nearly touched her ears. His voice whispered to her.

“Don’t be afraid. It’ll be over soon. Just stay very still.” He reached his fingers up to remove the tape from her mouth. Heather’s cries were soft as he saw the flesh monster approaching, turning into full shrieks of terror. 

“No! No!” Billy stood, eyes truly fixed on nothing, as the monster latched itself to Heather’s face. 

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, suddenly. The voice was loud and echoing in his ears.

_ SOMEONE IS HERE _ .

His body whipped around, eyes fixed on the darkness, the smallest shred of color coming in and then out of focus. Almost an apparition, almost static, he saw a girl, in a yellow shirt with brown hair. He watched her wide eyes stare at him. The monster inside of him tightened.

Billy almost thought he recognized her, and he retreated back into his mind, back into the darkness and the wet ground. He saw her clearly there. He didn’t know her name, but he had seen her face. He reached a hand out, almost touching her.

“Can you see me?” But before he could get a response, she was gone.

Billy was getting  _ so  _ tired of this voice in his head already. It had him drinking any chemical he could find, the last being transmission fluid he found in his trunk, and was insulting him in the same way Billy usually insulted people regularly. It was near impossible to focus on anything with this presence looming over him.

His knuckles were white while he gripped the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the road. Billy was working hard to keep the vehicle straight as he neared Steve’s house.

_ Alright, I’m going to let you take the reins here. Just remember, I can come back anytime. _

The voice was mockingly soft, a fake kind of soothing. And just like that, it was gone. His head fell silent for the first time that entire day, and Billy sighed back into his seat, nearly crying. He felt alone, and it felt so  _ good. _ His mind felt clear and free, but a nagging reminder somewhere near his spinal cord told him not to be too hopeful. 

The Camaro approached Steve’s home, honking three times as he usually did. He stepped out, feeling steady on his feet, and leaned against the fender. Billy lit a cigarette, taking a long drag. He saw the front door open, and his somehow-still-alive heart jumped. He felt so safe with Steve, even though he knew the one who was in danger was Harrington himself.

Steve stomped down his stairs, hands in the pockets of his sweats, and made his way to stand in front of Billy. “So, what stuff did you leave?” Billy swallowed every urge he had to break apart, fall into Steve and pass out, beg him to try and understand, beg him for  _ help _ . . The images he was shown earlier replayed in his mind, so he pressed out his cigarette with the tie of his boot, gave his meanest scowl, and kept his voice smooth.

“Couple pairs of trunks, denim jacket, and my Zeppelin shirt.” Steve nodded, not looking at Billy. He threw a hand over his shoulder, thumb out.

“You want to come look for yourself?” Billy shook his head, staring at the ground.

“Nah, I think I’m good.” He sniffed and crossed his arms, feet firm in the pavement of the driveway. 

Steve shrugged, a look of defeat on his face.

“Billy, are we going to talk  _ at all _ about this?” He had to keep the facade, he had to keep Steve safe.

“About what?” He lit another cigarette. “There’s nothing to talk about, Harrington.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Oh bullshit,  _ Hargrove _ .” His words were hot, like a cattle prod. “What the fuck was up with you earlier, huh? You off doing crank with Karen Wheeler?”

Billy let out a snort, taking a long drag of his smoke. “And if I was?” He said on the exhale.

“Jesus Christ, Billy. What the fuck!” Billy let out a roaring laugh, then, ignoring the ache in his chest.

“Yeah, Harrington,  _ what the fuck. _ I fucking told you this was  _ over,  _ didn’t I?” 

“Yeah, because you’re too goddamn afraid people will find out!” Steve was all gestures, hands flailing in the air. It made it a little easier for Billy to be angry.

“No, it’s not.” He sneered, deadlocking Steve’s brown eyes. “You want to know why,  _ princess _ ?” He watched Steve halt, wanting to hear this. “You’re fucking  _ needy _ , Steve. You’re always fucking  _ on _ me! I can’t fucking breathe, man! Like, okay, yeah, maybe I gave a shit about you. But, you can’t go a goddamn day without riding my dick everywhere I go! It’s  _ exhausting _ , and just really not worth it anymore.” 

Steve’s face turned about four shades of white. “But you said-“

“What I said? What, when you were  _ crying _ ?” Billy barked out a laugh, throwing his head back for effect. “I would’ve said anything to stop your fucking  _ weeping _ .” Steve’s eyes were brimming, fists clenched at his side.

Without a word, he turned on his heel and jogged for the door. It took less than three minutes before he was barreling back out, a single bead of moisture rolling down his face, smug smile pulling at his lips.

“No worries, Hargrove. Here’s your shit.” The clothes hit Billy in the face. “I couldn’t find your Zepellin tee, must’ve left it in the closet you live in.” Alright, he deserved that. Steve shuffled back to his front door, slamming it behind him with nothing else to give. No more mercy to show.

Billy shrugged and opened his car door, tossing the clothes he really  _ didn’t need  _ in the back, and backed out of Steve’s drive. While the house began disappearing in his rear view, he let out a wet, shaky breath. His mind began filling with smoke again, the voice returning.

_ Good boy. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SORRY it took this long to post. I’ve been writing so much stuff lately. I’ve been preparing for the Harringrove Halloween Extravaganza, as well as openly taking prompt requests on my tumblr. (@silentglassbreak still taking prompts 😉) I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! It’s so incredibly difficult to write this when I’m having to correspondingly watch the show at the same time. I’m fairly OCD about dialogue. Anyway, thank you for reading. Kudos & comments always appreciated! 🖤  
HAPPY OCTOBER! 🍂


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